Without betraying a single name or any secret, she made the three men
shudder by proving to them how little so-called happiness existed in
Paris that did not rest on the vacillating foundation of borrowed
money. She possessed, laid away in her drawers, the secrets of
departed grandmothers, living children, deceased husbands, dead
granddaughters,--memories set in gold and diamonds. She learned
appalling stories by making her clients talk of one another; tearing
their secrets from them in moments of passion, of quarrels, of anger,
and during those cooler negotiations which need a loan to settle
difficulties.
"Why were you ever induced to take up such a business?" asked Gazonal.
"For my son's sake," she said naively.
Such women almost invariably justify their trade by alleging noble
motives. Madame Nourrisson posed as having lost several opportunities
for marriage, also three daughters who had gone to the bad, and all
her illusions. She showed the pawn-tickets of the Mont-de-Piete to
prove the risks her business ran; declared that she did not know how
to meet the "end of the month"; she was robbed, she said,--ROBBED.
The two artists looked at each other on hearing that expression, which
seemed exaggerated.
"Look here, my sons, I'll show you how we are DONE.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49